Innocent Hands
by Cap'n Coree
Summary: In his defense, he is only looking at her hands. Fluff, one shot. FuuxMugen hinted JinxFuu


**Innocent Hands**

_Cap'n Coree_

Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo.

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She was sleeping. It had been a long day and she had passed out once they had finished setting up camp. She was sleeping on her side, her arms snaking their way out from under her blanket, curling their way towards her face. In Mugen's defense, he was indeed staring at her hands, just her hands, and sure, he could be thinking of those pudgy, tender hands doing some very nasty things, and probablly would be, had he been in a better mood, but no, Mugen was merely brooding. Brooding over those innocent baby fat fingers. In Jin's defense, Mugen wasn't a man with very pure intentions, and anytime that Mugen stared at her for too long, Jin got protective. No, Jin would not sleep tonight until he was sure Mugen was sleeping too.

Mugen was tempted to pick up one of her hands, press it, poke it. He was even tempted to sniff it, but he was sure it would smell like sunflowers. Somehow, like magic, everything on her smelled like sunflowers. What made her hands look so small, so childlike and innocent? So pale and clean? If Mugen were a softer man, he'd call them cute. He'd be tempted to kiss each fingertip and work his way to the wrist. Mugen, had he been in a better mood, would most likely want to take some of her fingers in her mouth and suck and nip, and guide her hands to some primal destination in his pants, but all Mugen wanted to do now is watch. Besides, Fish Face was cleaning his sword alittle too intently, and he felt holes burning into his back from Fishies heated glare. Mugen compared his own hands to the limp ones on the ground. His were rough where hers were smooth, his brown where hers were nearly white with the slightest hint of pink. His had been tainted, covered with blood, they had held stolen money, dirty women. His had only ever caused pain, tears, death. Hers were innocent, they nursed small animals back to health, picked flowers and weaved them into crowns or necklaces for Jin, (Mugen had refused, but was disappointed that everytime she made them again the offer was never renewed, and had to seek comfort in laughing at Jin as he was paraded around in the flamboyant attire.). Hers brought joy, laughter, life. Mugen wondered what it would feel like to hold her hand in his, feel it's weight, it's texture. Like his own hands could seek redemption by cradling hers.

If Mugen were an honest man, he'd say he loved her, but Mugen tried to leave little room in his already small mind for thoughts concerning love. Anything remotley affectionate he turned to lust. But tonight, he couldn't derail his train of thoughts, and he could feel a great deal of affection building itself a fortress inside the himself. Had he been in a better mood, it would have upset him, but now, it was more of a comfort than anything. If Mugen were better with words he'd be tempted to whisper sweet things to her in the dark well Jin had his back turned, let Fuu rest her head on his shoulder, or even his lap, without wanting anything sexual in return. He could show her that he was just as good as that stuck up Jin. If he were any of those things..but he wasn't, and he could never give Fuu what she needed.

It was all Jin's fault he was in such a bad mood. As they had been traveling through the country side, Fuu was going on and on about weddings. They had just seen a wedding in the town back and she was talking about how cute the bride looked, or how sweet smelling the flower arrangments were. Mugen was doing his best to tune her out but Jin was humoring her._'He's such a suck up,'_ Mugen thought as he looked back over his shoulder, watching Jin as he watched Fuu.

"Do you ever think _you'll_ get married Jin? Like to Shino?" she asked.

"Hn," Jin looked away from Fuu and back up to Mugen who quickly looked to the road again, "I'm not sure, Shino has been through much, and she may not really be ready for someone.. But perhaps one day I might marry someone, but she'd have to be use to...running."

"Yeah, I guess so," Fuu said, thinking of the large bounty on Jin's head. Mugen seethed, reading more into Jin's comment than Fuu had. "How about you, Mugen?"

"Huh?" Mugen asked, pretending he hadn't been listening.

"Do you think you'll ever get married?"

"Why should I have to get married? I'll just live close to a brothel, and be set for the rest of my life. That way I'll never have to put up with a scrawny nag like you for too long."

"MUGEN!" Fuu shouted, shaking her fist, "I have have a mind to--MEEP!" Fuu tripped , falling backwards, and Jin caught her, placing a hand on the small of her back, and grabbing her wrist.

"I suppose Mugen isn't the marrying type," Jin said, steading Fuu. He left his hand casually wrapped around thier wrist as they walked, and Fuu _allowed_ it. Mugen wondered if she'd ever grant him that kind of freedom to touch her. He thought she'd rather throw herself of a bridge than let Mugen touch her.

"Mugens not the type to have feelings." Fuu mumbled, but Mugen still heard it, and no insult he could throw at her under his breath could soothe the ache. Jin and Fuu looked like fairy-tale lovers, the Princess, and her Hero. And here Mugen was, playing the part of the dragon, again and again. Mugen wished for Jin to get his hands cut off next time he got in a fight.

Fuu yawned, snapping Mugen out of his trance, and drawing the attention away from her hands to her lips.

_"Now those lips.."_ Mugen thought, his mind twisting it's way away from redemption to... _other _things."Oh, those lips." he said aloud without meaning to. Suddenly there was a searing pain in the back of his head.

"Go to sleep, Mugen." Jin grumbled, aiming the hilt of his sword at the back of Mugen's head again, just incase. "I'm tired of watching you."

Fucking Fish Face.

Mugen stretched out on the ground where he sat, pulling a blanket over his chest. As he settled down, he snuck a quick look at Jin who was getting ready for bed as well, and slipped his hand out swiftly to clutch Fuu's hand briefly.It was soft and yielding and the contrast between the textures caused Mugen's hand to tingle slightly, and when he took it away is smelled like sunflowers.

When he woke up, Mugen would ask Fuu to weave him a necklace, and watch her hands as she carefully worked the flowers...

_Okay_ he wouldn't ask, but he'd make sure she ended up in a flower patch with him, and scowl alittle less when she went to slip it over his head. Heh, imagine the look on Jin's face while he tries to act amused when he's really just jealous..

There was another wave of pain as Jin jabbed the hilt of his sword into Mugen's side.

"Bastard!" Mugen howled, "what was that for?"

"I saw that.."

"So, it's not like she's _yours_, anyway!" Mugen retorted.

"..." Jin jabbed the hilt into Mugen's side again, slightly rougher. Mugen clutched his side and howled a string of cuss words.

"Go to bed Mugen."

End

_A.N.: Whenever I hear Weezers "Perfect Situation" I think of Fuu and Mugen sometimes... and then I think of Mugen in Weezer glasses and giggle for hours on end_


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